


Surprise Santa

by orphan_account



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Gift Giving, supercat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8979400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kara shows up on Cat's doorstep with some Christmas cheer.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kara-lesbihonest (mxfivespot)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxfivespot/gifts).



Cat hadn’t shown up for work.  Cat Grant, Queen of All Media, who never missed a day.  Her new assistant told Kara that she’d sent some sort of perfunctory text message that she wouldn’t be in.

_Working from home today.  See you next week.  Merry whatever._

Kara frowned.  This wasn’t good. 

She hadn’t needed to give Snapper an excuse, since he didn’t seem to care whether she came or went.  She just descended on Cat’s house, the small gift she’d gotten her tucked in her purse.  The doorman downstairs knew Kara from her years as Cat’s assistant and simply waved her upstairs.  She stepped out of the elevator and rang the bell. 

She listened, and even without her super-hearing, Cat’s footsteps were audible.  She was listening to an NPR program about British antique teapots.

_Oh boy.  She must be really down._

“Cat?”

No answer.

“Cat, I can hear you listening to NPR.”  She pounded on the door, careful not to pound too hard and blow it off its hinges.

Soft footsteps padded to the door, and a moment later it swung open.  Cat stood there in rumpled casual wear, some worn blue jeans and a fuzzy black angora sweater that looked soft and expensive.  She was wan and tired, and not wearing makeup.  Kara recognized that little furrow in her brow.  She halfheartedly tossed her hair over her shoulder.  “What do you want, Sunny Danvers?”

“Well, you … weren’t at the office, so I came by to bring you your Christmas present.”  She gave her a soft, hopeful smile.

Cat made a face.  “You should have called, Kiera, I’m not in the mood for your…”  She waggled her fingers in Kara’s general direction.  “...Christmas cheer.”

Kara stayed her hand, which had been surreptitiously slipping into her purse to pull out her Santa hat.  Clearly it was too soon for that.  “Well … can we at least get you off of British teapots?”

Cat rolled her eyes and sighed.  “Fine.  Come in.”

Kara followed her inside. 

Cat Grant’s happiness had been her job for two years, and some old habits were hard to shake, Kara mused as she walked behind her.  They ended up in the kitchen, Cat sliding into a barstool at the long marble island in the middle of the room.  She had a glass in front of her that was half-filled with something that looked like bourbon.  “Cat,” she scolded, “that’s not a very festive drink.”

Cat harrumphed.

Kara reached into her bag and pulled out a quart of eggnog.  “You can still have alcohol, but… here, let me just…”  She fetched a tumbler out of the cabinets and found her way to the fancy bottle of Pyrat rum that she knew was in Cat’s liquor cabinet.  In short order, she was prying the bourbon from Cat’s hand, and replacing it with a glass of eggnog that could strip the paint off the walls.

Cat snorted.  “Come on, now, eggnog?”  But she took a sip, and after wincing, she swallowed, and grudgingly acknowledged, “Fine.  So at least you don’t mix a wimpy eggnog.”

Kara made her way over to the radio and slowly turned the volume down on the British teapots.  She pulled out her phone, and after a minute of considering, she pulled up her Christmas playlist, which began with “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”  It was the Rickie Lee Jones and Dr. John version.  She loved it.  It was impossible not to be in a good mood when listening to it.  She put it on softly on the speakers and then returned to where Cat was seated, making quick work of the creamy concoction.

“See, isn’t this better already?”

Cat sighed.  “I suppose.”

“So, I came to give you your present, but… do you want to talk about why you’re so … you know… like this?”

Cat sighed again, heavier this time.  “I really wish you hadn’t brought me a gift.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have anything to give you.”

Kara started laughing.  “I don’t give gifts because I want something back.”

But Cat was unamused.  “I had something, but I realized that it really was just something for myself, not you.”

Kara couldn’t quite puzzle out what that meant.  “I told you Miss Grant, I’ll wear anything you pick out for me, I trust your taste.”

“It’s not clothing, Kiera.”

“And that’s another thing!  Why are you doing that?  You haven’t called me that in months.”

Cat exhaled, long and low, drained her glass and stared down into its depths.  Kara hated to see her this way.  “So,” she began, not looking up, “Carter is with his father this year, and I had hoped to see Adam, but we fought yesterday and now he’s refusing to take my calls.”

“Do you want me to call him?”  Kara offered.

“Stop it!”  Cat interrupted.  After a moment of chastened silence, she continued.  “I asked him, casually, mind you, what he thought of the present I’d chosen for you, and he got very upset with me.”

“Why would he care?”  Kara wasn’t sure she understood where this was going.  Kara was confused.  “What...was your present?” 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”  She couldn’t stand it.  Cat looked so beaten.  Kara wanted to fold her up in an endless hug and carry her away.

“Kara, I…”

Kara closed the space between them and put her arms around Cat, drawing her close.  She smelled cool, woodsy, expensive.  Her silky curls brushed against Kara’s cheek and she closed her eyes and squeezed.  “Cat.  Whatever you got me, it’s fine.  And if you don’t think it’s the right thing, that’s fine too.  I just want to see you happy.”

“But Kara,” Cat whispered, “that’s just the trouble.  I know that’s your disposition.”

Kara pulled back and looked at her.  “I don’t understand.”

“How could I not want you all to myself?”  Cat said miserably.

This took a moment to sink in.  Cat was depressed not because she was alone on Christmas, but because Adam had called her out on her feelings, and they irretrievably pointed toward Kara.  Her heart leapt a little. 

Every golden word of wisdom, every moment Cat’s eyes had lingered on her in just a certain way, every moment where they never touched yet had somehow felt electric… that had all been exactly what Kara had hoped.  Still, she didn’t dare presume.  “You… you mean…”

“Yes, Kara.  I mean what you think I mean.  I’ve harbored feelings for you for longer than I would like to admit.  And it’s made me selfish.”

Kara paused, her mind racing.  “OK.  Here’s the deal.  You’ve revealed yourself to me, in a way that must be very scary for someone like you, who hates vulnerability the way you do.” 

Cat’s eyes seemed to turn four different shades of green as she said this.

“So,” Kara went on, “it’s only fair that, instead of the gift I was going to give you, that I instead reveal something to you in return.”  She smiled softly at the bewilderment and sadness on Cat’s tired face.   _Even like that,_ Kara thought, _she’s beautiful.  
_

She withdrew from the embrace, gently squeezed Cat’s shoulder, and promised, “I’ll be right back, and I’m going to make sure that you have a proper Christmas.”

She disappeared out the terrace door, flew to Canada, grabbed enough snow to make a tiny snowman, and flew back to Cat’s.  She had to freeze-breath it as she drew closer to the penthouse, to keep it intact.  The whole endeavor took about fifteen minutes.  She re-entered through the terrace, in her full Supergirl regalia, snowflakes still sticking to her hair, though they began to melt rapidly as she strode across the living room toward the kitchen.

Cat’s mouth dropped open.

“Cat,” she said, “you can’t have Christmas without a snowman.  And Supergirl.”  She set him in Cat’s hands, and carefully blew on him again. 

Cat stared at the sparkling little snowman in her hands.  Then she stared at Kara.  “It _is_ you,” she breathed, a sudden triumphant light coming into her eyes.  “I _knew_ it.”

“You didn’t know, you just hoped,”  Kara answered, her eyes dancing. “Just like I didn’t know you loved me.  I just hoped.”

Cat set the snowman on the countertop, wrapped her arms around Supergirl’s neck, and, tipping up on her tiptoes, planted a brief, soft kiss on her lips.  It wasn’t enough.  Kara wrapped her arms around Cat’s waist, and pulled her in closer, and kissed her again, this time moved by the two years of what she had always assumed till now was an unrequited crush.  She tasted creamy, with notes of rum and nutmeg, and Kara was happier than she’d felt in a long time.

“Promise me, Kara,”  Cat murmured between kisses.  “Promise me you’re not just doing this to make me feel better.  Promise me you really want this.”

“Cat,” Kara whispered back against her lips.  “I do want you to feel better.  But that’s not why.  It’s because you finally gave me permission.”  She closed her eyes and lost herself in another kiss, in the feel of Cat’s soft body pressed against hers, in the warmth that spread through her skin and radiated outward. 

Cat pulled back, looking up at Kara’s face, her fingers tracing lightly over her cheeks, her jaw, her neck.  “You’re going to melt that snowman,”  she told her, her voice low and velvety.

Kara bit her lip, enjoying being entirely herself with Cat for the first time, and enjoying even more the unabashedly hungry way Cat was looking at her.  “That’s okay,” she murmured back, matching Cat’s tone, and kissed her again. Their lips parted and her tongue slipped over Cat’s lips and dipped into her mouth.  Cat moaned a little.  Kara worked hard not to faint at that sound.  “You’re gonna melt _me_.”

Cat’s eyes gleamed at that.  She fingered the neckline of Kara’s super suit.  “So, how exactly does this come off?  I’m asking for a friend.”

Kara smirked.  “I’ll show you.  But only if you put something on for me.”

Cat raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.  “What’s that?”

Kara leaned over to the counter and reached into her purse.  She pulled out the Santa hat.  “This.”  And she placed it, amid Cat’s grumbling objections, on Cat’s head.  She nodded with satisfaction.  “That’ll do nicely, _Miss Grant_.”

The playlist had circled back around.  Dr. John and Rickie Lee Jones were crooning:

 _“You've really been grand (I thrill when you touch my hand)_  
_But don't you see? (how can you do this thing to me?)_  
_There's bound to be talk tomorrow (think of my lifelong sorrow)_  
_At least there will be plenty implied (if you got pnuemonia and died)_  
_I really can't stay (get over that old out)_  
_Baby, it's cold_  
_Baby, it's cold outside”_

“It’s not cold outside,”  Cat whispered.  “I guess you’re just going to have to stay, _Supergirl_.”  And she took Supergirl’s hand, and led her off to bed.


End file.
